A Curse of Prophecy
by butalearner
Summary: An avid fanfiction reader (and one-time accidental fanfiction participant), brooding over his previous adventure, receives a mysterious letter that transports him to yet another fictional world. This time, however, his knowledge of canon and fanfiction is limited, and Things. Go. Wrong. OCSI, sequel to A Curse of Truth.
1. Chapter 1: Not Again!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Preface: I realized pretty quickly that no matter where I take this, at least some people are going to be unhappy about it. Honestly, I'm not really sure I can do William justice anymore, as odd as that sounds, since he's supposed to be me. I really considered just letting the story end as it did in ACoT, because there's always that risk that the sequel ruins the perception of the first.

Time hasn't been kind to my own perception of the first story, though, either, so oh well. The best criticism of ACoT I've seen was that William never actually came totally clean to the main characters, though it seemed I'd been building up to that the whole story. I was, actually, and then I got this great idea for a sequel...and then I never finished it...

I had a couple different ideas for the sequel (alternate sequels, or perhaps follow-on sequels), but all that time ago, my muse developed this one the most. You can just pretend like this doesn't exist, if you like, just like the Star Wars prequels. If such things existed, I mean.

For those of you just joining me, this is a sequel to my Harry Potter OC self-insert fanfiction entitled _A Curse of Truth_. I shall endeavor to explain things such that you don't have to read it, but I can't promise I'll do a good job at it. As my first long form story it has plenty of issues, but I think it's worth reading first. Just don't read this one first if you're planning on reading that one, because there will probably be spoilers.

The style shall remain the same: there will be a single PoV, first person, present tense, throughout the entire story. You'll never hear the thoughts of another character, though you will probably hear the PoV character _guess_ as to what those thoughts might be. If I mess that up — or anything else, for that matter — I expect you to yell at me.

As I've now explained on my profile, though, I'm not really writing anymore. Although, I will say I put some work into this just now, some five years after I started, to make it more presentable. So, perhaps there is a chance... I really, _really_ wanted to get to a certain point in the plot before I started posting, but I didn't get there. Perhaps it's best if I don't get there, though, if I'm not going to develop the story much beyond that.

I dunno. If you're still reading, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **A Curse of Prophecy**

 **Chapter One**

 **Not Again!**

* * *

 _With practiced ease, I slide the key into the keyhole and open the mailbox. Under the influence of muscle memory, I start closing it again after the briefest of glances. But this time, my hand and my heart stop at the exact same moment. My mind goes completely blank when I find a single letter lying within, affixed with quite a bit of postage...international postage. No name is written with the return address—a jumble of numbers and letters I barely register as an address before I tear open the envelope. My eyes skip straight to the end, straight to the signature at the bottom. As soon as I see it, my head swims, my eyes go blurry, and my arms start shaking._

 _My world goes dark._

My eyes shoot open.

Or at least, I think they do, but apparently, my world decides to stay dark. My sense of balance tells me I'm lying flat on my back, but that's all I really know. Feeling around for the letter, I come up with absolutely nothing except the knowledge that the floor is a lot dirtier than any post office has a right to be. Also, there's a wall. Smothering a stream of curses at my jammed fingers, I sweep my legs outward and listen carefully for rustling paper.

Nothing. What of the letter itself? I try to picture the letter as if I could remember something from it, but all I can picture are generic paragraphs. I can't even remember if it was addressed to me specifically. But I do remember the signature: _Ophion_...the serpent coiled around the egg that birthed the universe, according to some story in Greek mythology. Ophion was also the subject of the pendant I had carved a lifetime ago for a dear friend. But what could that possibly mean? Was it she who sent the letter, and if so, why would she sign it like that? Perhaps her sister? Neither option made much sense, at least not without reading the rest of the letter. Damn it, what did it say?

I've got nothing.

Okay, so taking stock of my surroundings is apparently worthless, as is trying to remember the letter. I can't see, so I'm not about to go exploring just yet. It smells...stale, I guess; I smell a pervasive, earthy odor that isn't exactly pleasant but neither is it enough to be discomforting. I do hear some distant noise, but it's just that: indistinguishable, distant noise. However, my own shifting and rustling indicates I'm in some large room, but beyond that I know nothing. I feel...what do I feel?

Suddenly it hits me all at once.

I feel...magic! It's back! I mentally poke and prod at the fluid sphere of magic in my gut just like I had so many times before...before I died. I remember waking up this morning like I did every morning and wondering if it was all a dream, but here I am, lying on a dirty floor who knows where, jammed fingers throbbing too painfully for a dream. And yet I can feel my magic once again there in my gut, a comfortable presence that I had missed all that time. Is it the same? I can't tell; it seems calm at the moment, though I distinctly remember it once roiled within, eager to escape and be shaped according to my will. Was that just when I was under stress? Had it been a result of all the training I'd undertaken?

Tentatively I pull off a couple separate streams like loose threads, and they snap back healthily to the source when I release them, as expected. Obviously it's internal so it doesn't really have a color, but it doesn't feel like the pure, white magic I twice felt before in extreme situations. I wonder if I can even access that anymore, considering...what happened. Forcing so much of _that_ magic out of me might well have been permanent. But clearly this _normal_ magic—cyan, I decide is its color—is back. Am _I_ back, then?

A growing clatter jolts me out of my internal diagnosis. Just as I decide that I should try to conjure a light, faintly reflected light gives me my first view of my surroundings. Massive, cracked and grayed marble walls line the cavernous room, with pillars along either side, lengthwise. In the yellowish light filtering through the doorway in the center of the wall to my right, I'm reminded of some kind of old formal dining hall in a castle, despite the apparent lack of any furnishings whatsoever. The subtly shifting, growing light acts like a single torch, casting creepy shadows of the columns along the wall behind them.

Suddenly a group of people burst through the door—four of them, as far as I can tell, since my view of the door is slightly obstructed by the columns—and one collapses on the floor.

"You people are crazy," the collapsed one says, and then pulls off a helmet. Wait, a helmet? The castle conjecture might not be too far off the mark.

I consider eavesdropping for a little while, but I really don't want to piss them off. I decide to take my chances with revealing myself. "Hello?" Their heads whip around and the one with the flashlight aims it right at me. Wait, a flashlight? So not some medieval time, and not the same magic as before, since batteries appear to work wherever we are. I quickly cover my eyes against the sudden brightness and try to blink away the tears, trying to give my eyes time to adjust after spending so much time in the dark. "Can you help me?"

"Who's there?" A female voice.

"I...uh...William," I say, deciding on the spot to use my old imaginary name. Well, one of them. It sounds odd on my tongue now. I stand and brush myself off, looking down to find myself wearing the same jeans and polo I had been wearing at the post office. "I just woke up here a minute ago," I say as I walk slowly toward them, my hands still up in front of my eyes. I figure besides shading my still adjusting eyes it lets them see I'm not armed. "Where am I?"

"Great, just what we need," the guy on the floor mutters, but the others ignore him.

There is nothing but silence behind the light for several moments, then the light turns away to reveal a short, red-haired girl dressed in normal clothing. What the hell? Didn't the first guy have a helmet of some sort on? It could have been a prop or something... "Rachel, could you—?" That's a male voice, but I don't think it's the same as the first.

"Sure, I got it," she cut in with a hint of snark. Okay, so I'm dealing with two males and two females, one named Rachel. No British accents this time. Doesn't ring a bell. As we walk toward each other, the light swings to the guy on the floor.

"I recognize you," girl-who-is-not-Rachel says to him. "You were one of the undetermined kids in the H—well, you know, years ago..." Undetermined kids? What's this? It's starting to tickle a memory now.

"Yeah, and you're Annabeth. I remember." I go rigid at hearing that name — as uncommon as that name is, I understand the implications immediately. Annabeth, Rachel, undetermined kids...that must be Percy Jackson!

Aw hell, not again.

"What was that?" Rachel's voice startles me, and the light swings back to me. Damn it, can I not internally monologue here? That would really suck. Hey, I guess I didn't say that out loud.

"Uh, nothing...I'm just...surprised, is all," I stammer.

"Have you been down here before?" Annabeth's asks me. Whether it was surprise, curiosity, or suspicion that tinged her voice, I don't know.

"I don't have time for this," the guy on the ground says. I rather agree. He stands and brushes himself off and says, "look, thanks for the help, but I'm outta here."

"Wait," she says, attention once again on the formerly helmeted guy, "why were you trying to join up with...the wrong side?" Her voice falters, and I understand she's watching her words around me.

"There is no right side," he says with a sneer. "The g—your side never cared about us, why should I—?"

"Sign up with an..." She trails off, throwing an annoyed glance at me.

"Hey," I cut in, "don't hold back on my account. I believe you were about to ask why he would want to join up with somebody who only cares about him as cannon fodder."

"What would you know about it?" He spits at me.

"Better an absentee parent than an abusive one," I say. It occurs to me at that moment that we're almost certainly in the Labyrinth, and suddenly I'm really glad I stopped them. I don't remember who this guy is so I can't say anything about his godly parent, but I'm fairly certain he's trying to join up with Kronos. Unfortunately I can't play it slow like last time...I'll have to throw them some bait, get them to take me with them. "But you're right, I don't know. I don't know why anybody would expect someone like Kronos to keep his word, whatever he promised you."

That statement is met with shocked silence. "Who are you, really?" Annabeth's voice is definitely laced with suspicion this time. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a hand on her dagger or whatever it was she carried at this point. I can't see, though, because Percy has his light on me. He's probably holding that pen-sword thing, too.

"William Lerner," I say, hoping my voice isn't shaking too much. "Look, I really don't want you guys to leave me stranded. Somehow I doubt I'm going to find my way out of here alone."

Rachel had come to stand next to me and now she turns her head, squinting up at me. She's a good half-foot shorter than I am, probably more. "He's not disguising himself," she declares.

Uh, what?

The other guy scoffs. "Enough of this! You shouldn't have spared me, Jackson. Mercy has no place in this war." He picks up his helmet and jogs back the way they came. Inwardly I thank the gods that this confusing double conversation is at an end, even though I know the interrogation is probably coming. Oh well, I can handle those. The remaining occupants glance back and forth between me and the door, probably wondering which one of us deserves more suspicion.

"So, William," Percy begins.

I nod. "Mr. Jackson," I say, half questioning. I already dropped a hint that I know more than I should, but it couldn't hurt to play dumb now. They hadn't said his first name yet.

"Percy," he says quickly. I would shake his hand but I don't want to approach him too quickly just now. I don't remember much in the way of specifics about the Labyrinth at the moment since, if I recall correctly, they go in and out of it several times during that book. Either way, he's probably pretty jumpy at the moment.

"Nice to meet you, Percy, Annabeth," I say, nodding toward the lights each of them held, "Rachel." I shake her hand.

"You know about Kronos?" Well, Annabeth does get straight to the point, doesn't she?

"Ah," I say, stalling for time as I try to figure out what to say. "I do...a little, anyway."

Annabeth glances at Percy, who merely shrugs, before turning back to me. "Where did you find out?"

Well now, this isn't going at all like I planned. Time to play dumb again. "I...I'm not sure," I say, scratching my head again. "Everything sort of went fuzzy there for a while. One minute I'm standing in a post office in Denver, the next minute I'm waking up in complete darkness here. And...I know some things...things that I have no reason to know, but I must have learned them somewhere..." I try to look around but with the flashlight pointed at me I can't see Percy or Annabeth. I can see Rachel's confused face, though, and confused is better than suspicious. "Sorry," I say, "I wish I could remember more. I know some stuff about gods and titans, that Kronos wants revenge. And demigods, which I guess you guys are."

"Us two are," Annabeth says quickly, which causes the light to move. I figure Percy just shifted uncomfortably. Rachel displays no discernible reaction.

I nod and run my hand through my hair, thinking of what I should tell them. It's not totally an act. The Percy Jackson series is far from fresh in my mind. Then I shake my head, figuring maybe this is enough. "Sorry, a lot of things are fuzzy."

Annabeth crosses her arms. "You sure? Anything else we should know?"

I bite my bottom lip, then nod. "Yeah, this is probably going to come up sooner or later, but I...uh...I can do a bit of magic." _I think_ , I almost add. It occurs to me that I haven't actually tried it here yet.

My declaration is once again met with what I assume is a shocked silence. Annabeth is the first to recover. "You can _what_?" There is far less hostility than I expected after that statement.

"Like card tricks?" Ah, Percy, you might be wicked awesome in a fight, but your jokes are as bad as mine. I suppose that's not too fair, though, since this is supposed to be Young Adult series.

Instead of replying, I hold my palm up and pull out a stream of magic like I have hundreds of times before. A small, white light flashes into existence, tiny pinpricks of light like faeries swirling around it. "No, like this," I say, thankful that it actually worked. I note that the dim light took more magic out of me than I might have expected. My first thought is to recall the hypothesis that it has to do with the similarity of my magic to magic in the Percy Jackson universe. But then, I suppose I am really out of practice. It could be a bit of both as well.

Staring at the dim light, I remember the last time I tested the limits of my magic and the oddities with it in...the old place. I didn't realize how much my time without magic had dulled the pain into heartache. Standing here in a strange land, my magic once again thrumming and awaiting my will... It's threatening to rip open the wound I don't want open right now. It makes me think I never really fit in there, and it makes me think it'll feel the same here. Do I really belong anywhere? I close my hand and cut off the stream.

This time Rachel is the first one who recovers. "Um, so...why were you sitting in the dark, then?"

I teeter on that cliff of melancholy a moment longer. "Well, I did just wake up a few moments before that," I say. "If you guys had shown up a minute later I probably wouldn't have been." I take a deep breath and look at them, trying to shake the rest of the awkwardness off. "Well, I take that back, I might have killed the light until I determined you weren't a threat."

"How do you know we aren't?" Yikes, Annabeth can be scary.

I smile slightly. "Lucky guess?" Percy snorts but she doesn't seem amused.

"Look, Annabeth, I'm exhausted, let's just make camp here for a while," Percy says. His voice now reflects his exhaustion, so I think I've at least convinced him that I'm not an enemy.

"We don't know enough about him," she replies, never taking her eyes off me.

"Well if he wanted to attack us he could have ambushed us," he points out. "I'm going to look for some firewood and we can chat in a bit."

I consider trying to use magic to help out, but I really don't know enough about it here. It could wipe out my entire capacity just summoning a splinter. Instead I sit, trying to look as harmless as possible. At least Rachel doesn't seem wary of me, because she just plops down next to me. "So who's your parent?"

"My...parent," I repeat dumbly. It takes me a moment to realize she thinks I'm a demigod. "Oh! Um...I don't even know if I'm a...do you guys have a way to tell demigods from humans?"

"Satyrs can smell the difference," Annabeth says slowly. She remains on her feet.

"Shame Grover isn't with us at the moment," Rachel says, which earns her a glare. Wow, the daughter of Athena really doesn't want me to know any more than I must.

"Will he be around?" I'm pretty sure he will be, but I don't remember where they are in the story at the moment.

"Maybe," Annabeth replies tightly. Damn it, was Grover in danger in this book? I can't remember, but I'm pretty sure he lives to the end of the series. Well, he would have if nothing changed. That thought sends a chill down my spine. Thankfully, she continues, "but surely you are a demigod; normal humans can't do what you just did."

Suddenly I recall that most, or maybe all demigods have a few symptoms that I don't have, so I try to think of a way to point that out. "Are you sure that's the only way to tell?" Internally I wince; somehow that was both pushing the limit of what I should say and far too vague.

Luckily, Annabeth falls right into my trap. "Besides the fact that satyrs...and monsters...can smell the difference, demigods generally have ADHD and dyslexia; the former because that hyper-alertness aids in fighting, the latter because our brains are hard-wired for Ancient Greek."

"And I have neither," I say slowly, "as far as I know." I stroke my chin, which I realize has a bit of stubble. Hey, am I my normal age this time? My clothes don't seem to have expanded on me this time.

"Well, it's not a surefire way to tell," she says, waving off my objection. "Just like the Mist, which _most_ humans can't see through." She looks pointedly at Rachel when she says it. Oh yeah, _that_ was what she was testing! "Some demigods have issues with it, too. But I have no idea what a human in the Labyrinth would see when there aren't any monsters around." At her sigh, I just nod. I hadn't thought about the Mist, but we're not going to get any further on this front without Grover or some other satyr. I have my own questions, but I figure I should let her continue to interrogate me until she's satisfied. "So what else can you do?"

"I don't know, small stuff, mostly," I say with a shrug. Probably, I should add, but I don't. As far as I know, my magic is limited only by my imagination, my capacity, and probably the similarity to local magic. "Converting some of my magic into light—producing a few trillion photons—isn't difficult."

" _Mystiokinesis_ ," Annabeth murmurs, then looks up at me questioningly. "A son of Hecate?"

I cock my head back at that...I've never heard that term before. Was that in the books? I just shrug again. "My parents never told me anything like that, but I suppose it's possible one of them isn't my real parent," I lie. "I wouldn't mind doing some experiments to figure out exactly what I can do, but I get the sense that this isn't really the time."

"We are in the Labyrinth," Rachel says in reply.

I had a distinct impression that was the case, but I still grimace at the confirmation of it. Didn't I _die_ shortly after the last time I went into a maze? I need to figure out exactly what's going on, though. "So, what are we doing in the Labyrinth?"

Rachel snorts. "You mean besides blacking out and waking up here?"

I smile at her. "Well, as I said before, I rather hope you guys will take me with you, at least at first. I don't have any pressing matters to attend to at the moment, so I might as well tag along and help save the world real quick."

She laughs, though Annabeth just rolls her eyes at me. "Real quick, huh?"

"Hey, I've got a gourmet dinner of ramen noodles with my name on it," I say. "Anyway, you guys were running away from somebody on Kronos' side. So either you also ended up down here by accident, or we're down here looking for...?"

"Daedalus," Rachel supplies, earning another glare from the other girl.

"Daedalus," I repeat, stroking my chin and trying to recall what I knew about him. "The inventor..."

"...of the Labyrinth itself," Annabeth finishes grumpily.

That's right! Though if I recall correctly he isn't exactly in control of it anymore. They were down here trying to stop Kronos' army from entering Camp Half-Blood, but I can't remember how they planned to do that. It doesn't look like Annabeth is terribly interested in letting me know, either.

Percy finally makes his way back over, after making a bit of a clatter while we talked. He drops his pile of scrap wood — a mismatched pile of what appears to be broken corkboard, chunks of smashed furniture, and, oddly enough, a couple tree branches with dried leaves for tinder. Where did he find those down here? He glances at Rachel and I, sitting on the floor, and then to Annabeth, who is still standing with her arms crossed looking us over. "So...what's going on over here?" His amusement is not well-hidden.

"Ms. Annabeth is still deciding whether or not to kick me to the curb," I say with a lopsided smile.

Rachel scoffs. "She was ready to accept a known traitor's help, but apparently not a kind stranger's."

"Why thank you, Rachel," I say just before Annabeth could jump in and defend herself.

"Well, we're not going to just leave you here," Percy says right after, once again leaving the blonde fuming.

"Of course we're not," she says, spinning on her heel and walking away.

"You realize," I say loudly enough for her to hear, "that both of you could just beat the crap out of me if you needed to. I'm tall but not particularly strong, and if I had any weapon at all I'd be more likely to hurt myself with it."

Annabeth comes back a little closer while I'm speaking, though she's apparently far from ready to completely join us. "We don't know the extent of your _mystiokinetic_ abilities," she points out.

"True," I concede, "but any magic I'd need to take out a demigod would almost certainly knock me out for several hours." At least until I get a better handle on what I can do, I don't add. Actually, demigods are probably resistant to my magic, so I don't even know if I can take them out at all. "Passing out like that...well, it's a most unpleasant sensation, I assure you."

"Can you...uh..." Percy says, gesturing to the wood pile.

I consider that. I know that later on, Leo Valdez has some sort of power over fire. The question is, would he shoot it out of his hand like a flamethrower, or just ignite the pile directly? From my experiments on my last adventure, that sort of difference greatly affects the amount of magic I need to make it happen. I _think_ it's more likely he would just make it ignite, so I hold my hand out and push out a stream of magic, willing the tinder to ignite. It doesn't burst into flames or anything, which I suppose is to be expected since I'm not trying to put much magic into it. Instead, the leaves sort of shrink, start to smoke, and then eventually ignite as if someone is holding a magnifying glass on the tinder. Thankfully the wood catches after a minute, and we have a decent fire going. Annabeth removes the cork before it catches, though I don't know enough about burning wood to know why. Maybe it stinks or something and is only a last resort.

"Is that it?" Rachel blurts out the question and I laugh.

"Hey, don't make fun," I say with a mock glare. "I will not hesitate to inflict mild discomfort upon you."

Rachel giggles at that, but Annabeth merely crosses her arms. "You were holding back." It was not a question.

"Well yeah," I say with a shrug. I feel like I could have "I didn't think you needed my Ritual of Divine Conflagration to start a campfire."

"Ooo, what's that?" Rachel asks.

"Something I made up once," I say, cursing myself for the reminder. After a few moments, I murmur, "a story for another time."

The others fall silent as well, apparently sensing my mood. For several long minutes, the only sound is the crackling of the fire, and the only movement belongs to the dancing shadows cast on the walls by both us and the pillars around the room. I find myself wondering how I keep getting into the situations, and the disturbing parallels between them. To avoid falling into despondency, I focus on the others. The weight of the world always seems to rest on the shoulders of mid-teens. Actually, if I recall correctly, both of the main characters were fourteen when I showed up, and they even look alike: dark hair and bright green eyes. Both had similarly strong female companionship, too, though Annabeth is a tall blonde and I think Percy already realizes she's beautiful.

"Something was wrong with Luke," she says eventually, causing me to freeze with alarm. "Did you notice the way he was acting?"

"He looked pretty pleased to me," Percy mutters. "Like he'd spent a nice day torturing heroes." Ah, yes, _Luke_...how could I forget?

Annabeth's jaw clenches. "That's not true! There was something wrong with him. He looked...nervous. He told his monsters to spare me. He wanted to tell me something." She seems to be reaching for an explanation, reasoning out aloud. I honestly can't remember, but I don't think Luke does anything good anytime soon.

Percy snorts. "Probably, _'Hi, Annabeth! Sit here with me and watch while I tear your friends apart. It'll be fun!'_ "

"You're impossible," she grumbles, then turns to Rachel to change the subject. "So which way now, Sacagawea?"

She doesn't answer right away, instead putting the finishing touches on a surprisingly detailed serpentine creature drawn with ash. "We'll follow the path," she says slowly. "The brightness on the floor."

"The brightness that led us into a trap?"

"Lay off her, Annabeth," Percy says. "She's doing the best she can."

Ouch. Not a good attempt at mediation, Percy. Annabeth stands up in a huff. "The fire's getting low. I'll go look for some more scraps while _you_ guys talk strategy." She marches off into the shadows while Rachel continues to draw.

"Annabeth's usually not like this," Percy says with a sigh, glancing over at us with an embarrassed look. "I don't know what her problem is."

Rachel raises her eyebrows at him. "Are you sure you don't know?"

He furrows his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Boys," she mutters. "Totally blind."

I interrupt the banter with a laugh. "We are at that," I say. "But the question is, do you _really_ want boys to figure you out?"

Rachel blushes, but Percy looks interested. "Do you know what she means?"

I grin at the still blushing redhead. "I might, but it's not my place to guess. I will venture to say that despite how they're acting, I don't think they want you to know just yet."

"C'mon," Percy prods, "just a little hint?"

I laugh. "Well, alright. First, you've got two pretty girls—" I'm suddenly cut off by a hand over my mouth and a frantic Rachel, her eyes pleading with me to drop it. I gently pry her hand away and laugh again. "Hey, I'm just sharing some observations here," I say. "Mix one part good-lookin' guy, two parts pretty girl, a big pile of teenage hormones with a dash of unrequited crush, and what do you think is gonna happen?"

"Mix what? I don't get it," Percy says, brows still knitted in thought.

"Angst," I say, ignoring him. "That's what you get. Piles and piles of angst. I don't know why girls seem to like it; seems to me everybody should just come out and speak plainly."

"Exactly," Percy agrees. "Just come out and say it."

He directs that to me, but I just shake my head and chuckle. "Sorry, Percy, I think you forgot the part where I don't feel like dying a—anytime soon." Well, that was smooth. I wonder what they would have made of it if I'd actually said 'again.'

That gets a wince and a guilty look directed at the redhead sitting next to me; quite a different response than I expected. "Look, I'm sorry I got you involved, Rachel." Ah, that.

"No, you were right," she says slowly, glancing at me as if to make sure I don't circle back to the uncomfortable subject she just escaped. "I can see the path. I can't explain it, but it's really clear." She points toward the end of the room opposite to where they entered. "The workshop is that way...the heart of the maze," she adds I think for my benefit. "We're very close now. I don't know why the path led through that arena. I—I'm sorry about that. I thought you were going to die." She sounds like she is going to cry, so I reach over and try to rub her back comfortingly.

"Hey, I'm usually about to die," Percy says lightly. "Don't feel bad."

She stares at him, then sighs as some of the tension leaks away. "So you do this every summer? Fight monsters? Save the world? Don't you ever get to do just, you know, normal stuff?"

"Half-bloods get used to it, I guess. Or maybe not used to it, but…" He shifts uncomfortably. "What about you? What do you do normally?"

She shrugs. "I paint. I read a lot."

Ah, the awkward conversations of teens getting to know each other. Percy charges through it, however. "What about your family?"

Okay, I spoke too soon, _now_ it's awkward. I stand up and stretch, looking around for Annabeth and thinking maybe I'll help her out. Unfortunately, she's already on her way back, carrying a few more sticks that Percy probably ignored. On the other hand, my standing up had the pleasant side effect of ending the painful conversation.

"I'll take first watch," she says after eying the three of us in turn. "You guys should get some sleep."

"I'm afraid I just slept for who knows how long, so I don't think I could fall asleep right now," I say, though I'm not sure it's true. I do know I'm too wired to sleep. "I could keep you company if you like."

Her face flashes a look that says she'd like anything but. Luckily for me, though, there isn't really a way to get out of it unless someone else stays up, too. "Okay," she relents.

Percy looks like he wants to say something, but he glances at Rachel who has already wordlessly curled up with her backpack as a makeshift pillow. He gives me a tired nod since Annabeth isn't looking, then lays down as well. She and I remain silent for some time, allowing the others to fall asleep, though she never turns her back on me. To once again reinforce the fact that I'm harmless, I turn my back on her. I take the opportunity to once again poke and prod at my magic, reveling in the sensations...in the _life_ that magic brings to me. The magic I had used previously was already restored, and since we apparently wouldn't be going anywhere for several hours, I decide I can safely waste some.

I rest my hands on my knees, palms up, and summon a dim light in both of them. Then I convert one to fire; a flickering, orange candle flame that looks like a candle wick that is about to burn out. Then I convert the other to electricity; a small, blue orb with static-like arcs dancing around it. The arcs make a slight zapping sound, however, so I close that hand and move it over so both hands look like they're cupping water. Then I try to change the flame to actual water. It requires a lot more magic, perhaps, I theorize, since the other things are just energy but water is mass. I'm up to the challenge, however. The flame changes to a mist, which gathers with streams of mist snaking in from the surrounding air to form a small bead of water, rotating about a point above my cupped hands. I let it grow to the size of a marble before Annabeth interrupts me.

"That's really amazing," she says, the proximity of her voice surprising me. She'd moved closer, watching me from the side.

I drop the ball in surprise, which splashes first into my hands and then right down the front of my pants. I stare down at enormous wet spot, and then look over to see her biting her lip and barely stifling laughter. I let out a quiet chuckle. "See, that shows you what a coward I am. A few words from you and I just wet myself."

* * *

A/N:

This chapter was originally over 10k words, but I figured this was a good place to split it. If you start expecting 10k word chapters every time, the chances that I will continue to deliver just plummet.

I got the _mystiokinesis_ stuff from the Camp Half-Blood wiki. 'My' reaction above was accurate; I don't remember seeing any of that in the series proper. I think I found something in reference to a game, but nothing solid (and I never played any of the games). So if you know, let me know!

Note that a portion of the dialogue is from _The Battle of the Labyrinth_. Since my stories are canon-compliant right up until the point where I wreak havoc upon the real story, I figure the dialog should start out similar. But don't worry, I'm hoping to take this story in an interesting direction in short order, with a couple non-canonical characters and items from Greek mythology that Rick Riordan didn't include.

Also, I started writing this all the way back before _The Mark of Athena_ , so at least some of this story will disregard any information in that book. This will become clear much later on.

I welcome any and all feedback, from gushing praise to roaring flames. I also welcome...nay, I _demand_ notification of any mistakes whatsoever, be they grammatical, temporal, canonical, or what have you.


	2. Chapter 2: A Kiss?

Disclaimer: One glance from Rick Riordan's legal team would have me wetting myself.

* * *

 **A Curse of Prophecy**

 **Chapter Two**

 **A Kiss?**

* * *

 _"See, that shows you what a coward I am. A few words from you and I just wet myself."_

"Oh ha ha," she says mockingly, though she has a trace of a smile when she does it. Then it fades and she searches my face. "Look, I'm sorry for treating you like..."

I hold a hand up to stop her. "No no, I understand, you're being cautious," I say. "While I do wish we could expedite the process, I understand completely. It's definitely the smart thing to do, especially with...what's going on." I almost say 'with Percy,' but ostensibly I don't know that he's the son of Poseidon just yet. I forgot how frustrating it is, having to keep straight what you know and what you shouldn't.

She shakes her head. "But Rachel was right, we would have had...Ethan, was his name. We would have been traveling with Ethan if he had wanted to, and he's clearly not on our side."

"Better the devil you know..." I quote.

She looks at me askance. "You're not trying very hard to convince me to stop being suspicious of you."

I smile. "Well, it's like Percy said, you guys won't leave me here, so I've got a chance to prove myself. I figure that'll work better than any pretty words I can throw at you."

"Or give you the chance to betray us at our weakest," she points out, though there is little in the way of suspicion in her tone. I think she's starting to believe me.

"Or that," I admit. "That would probably be right now, though, while both Percy and Rachel are asleep."

To her credit she doesn't flinch or go rigid at that. "True," she says softly.

"Just helping you stay alert, that's all," I say.

"I need to stay alert, not get paranoid," she grumbles.

"Sorry." She waves it off and grows silent, which I allow for several moments until something I wanted to talk to her about springs to mind. "So...there's an interesting dynamic between the three of you and this Luke guy..." Her head whips around to look at me and I hold my hands up in surrender. "No judgment, I know that I know even less about him than Percy does, I'm well aware of that." A lie, but a placating one. When she says nothing, I keep going. "I just thought it was interesting that Percy reacts to the mention of Luke the same way that you react to Rachel."

She looks like she's going to argue until she processes it a little further. Her mouth opens and closes several times as if she's going to refute that, but she eventually gives a kind of half-sigh, half-growl. "Is it that obvious?"

"It's never obvious to the people involved. I like to think I'm more observant than most, but..." I shrug.

"That could be used against us, you know," she says.

I glance at her to find her looking at me worriedly, so I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Percy strikes me as the kind of guy who would throw himself into danger for more than just...someone like you."

"How would you know that?" She doesn't sound accusing, more like surprised.

"He...reminds me of somebody I knew," I say softly.

She must catch my look because I see her frown out of the corner of my eye. "You don't seem old enough to talk like that."

I let out a small chuckle. "And you don't seem old enough to notice things like that. I see the looks in your faces; yours and Percy's. I've seen those looks before: the ones that say you've been through far more at your age than you should, and that you've got further yet to go."

She stares at me as if reevaluating just how old she thinks I am, then takes a deep breath and looks away. "It is...overwhelming, at times," she admits.

I think to myself that it would overwhelm most people, but there must be something about people like them that makes them able to stand against such impossible odds. Obviously these are demigods, but there are surely many other demigods who couldn't do what they do. Perhaps their youth plays a role in that, too...like they're too stubborn and too naive to understand. Whatever the case, I'm glad I'm not one of them. "Will you tell me about him? About Luke, I mean, how he was before?"

After several moments of hesitation, after searching my face for disapproval and only finding curiosity, after stumbling over where to start, she did. She tells me about her father briefly at first, but she keeps going back and elaborating on various subjects including her stepmother and her stepbrothers. She tells me about running away, fighting monsters with only her mother's guidance and a simple hammer until Luke and Thalia rescued her. She tells me of their capture by a Cyclops and subsequent escape, and Thalia's sacrifice and subsequent revival by the golden fleece.

I nearly gasp when she said Thalia _Grace_. I'd entirely forgotten that she was the sister of Jason Grace, one of the heroes from the second series, which hadn't been completed in my time. The Mark of Athena had just come out, and I kick myself for not having read it. Everything Percy Jackson would have been a lot more fresh in my mind had I done that. Well, maybe.

My mind snaps back to the conversation as she tells me of their Quests for Zeus's Master Bolt, the Golden Fleece, Artemis, though she seems to come back to herself before she gets too far into the Quest for Daedalus. I don't think she meant to go into such detail, but she seemed almost in a trance...she hadn't even noticed the tears streaking down her face, and she had stared off into the darkness for most of the story. I have no idea how much time had passed, but I didn't want to interrupt.

It's one thing to read about some of these events, but it's quite another to hear them like this. She's a much better storyteller than Percy is.

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to..." She trails off and wipes her face.

"No, I'm glad you told me," I say softly, then I lay back with my arms behind my head to stretch a bit. I was afraid to move before, and I'm paying for it now in painfully stiff muscles and joints. Oh well, it's totally worth it, because now I have an excuse to know a lot of things from the past. Keeping future knowledge hidden is a lot easier. "It seemed...cathartic."

She nods, hugging her knees to her chest but saying nothing.

"Well, I would tell you to get some sleep yourself, but..." I trail off.

She turns her eyes on me, apparently flashing back to her usual calculating self despite the gains I think I made in getting her to trust me.

I smile. "Maybe wake Percy, he—"

My suggestion is cut off by a deep rumble, shaking the room ever so slightly. I shoot up to a sitting position just as it fades, and note that Annabeth is in a crouch, seemingly fully alert and ready to fight a battle despite how tired she had looked just moments earlier. Rachel stirs slightly, but Percy continues to breathe deeply.

"What was—" I begin, but the rumbling comes back stronger...closer.

She jumps up and dashes over to Percy. "We have to get out of here!" I start toward Rachel but she jumps up, wide-eyed, and shoulders her backpack before I can even reach her. I glance over and Annabeth is shaking Percy. "Percy! Percy, wake up!"

He shoots up to a sitting position. "Tyson—Tyson's in trouble! We have to help him!"

 _What?_ I know Tyson is Percy's Cycloptic half-brother, but I don't remember this.

"First things first," Annabeth says. "Earthquake!"

Percy follows Rachel's example and jumps up, shouldering his backpack and taking off toward the far end of the room in a flash. Annabeth is only a step behind, while they leave Rachel and I in the dust. Damn, they're fast! They were asleep, but they're already ahead of me. I hear a loud crack behind me, and I chance a look back to see one of the columns start to buckle. Before I even turn back around, two more columns crack and spew fragments of marble as they get ready to crumble as well. I turn back around to find Rachel has gained on me, so I sprint as fast as I can. The horrifying racket of cascading column failures chase me out of the room, pelting my back with pebbles and dust.

"You know what? I like this way after all," Annabeth says as she and Percy let Rachel pass and then resume running to escape the dust. It follows us down two more corridors, though thankfully it dissipates as we pass the third intersection and slow down in a futuristic hallway with shiny walls. The floor is a large metal grate with nothing visible below, and the hall is lit by bright ceiling panels that appear to be backed with fluorescent tubes.

"This way," Rachel says excitedly. "We're close!"

"This is so wrong! The workshop should be in the oldest section of the maze. This can't—" Annabeth's voice falters as we reach a set of metal double doors that wouldn't look out of place on a commercial refrigerator. The door was inscribed with a blue, capital delta.

"Perhaps it was upgraded as time passed," I offer. She looks at me in surprise and then appears to curse herself under her breath.

"We're here," Rachel announces proudly. "Daedalus's workshop."

Annabeth presses the center of the inscribed letter, and they hiss open as the air pressure on either side equalizes. "So much for ancient architecture," Percy mutters, and I shake my head as Annabeth scowls. How can he manage to say exactly the wrong thing all the time?

" _Di immortales_ ," Annabeth says breathlessly, and it takes me a second to realize that it's supposed to be a curse. Since she's fourteen I have to let it slide, even though it's quite possibly the most ridiculous curse I've ever heard...and not in a good way. I mean, if you're going to waste that many syllables, you at least should be hilariously vulgar about it. I'm thinking a more appropriate response to the workshop would be something like something like _Aphrodite's tits, this is awesome_ or _well, slap my ass and call me Circe._

Actually, on second thought, that sounds like a shortcut to a painful smiting in this place.

The others are busy inspecting the art, gadgets, and other wonders, but if memory serves, this doesn't turn out very nicely. While Annabeth and Rachel are exclaiming over the sketches and sculptures, my eyes search frantically for the slightest whiff of the shit that's about to hit the fan. Mostly I glance back and forth between the doorway we just entered and the top of the spiral staircase, because I'm sure someone is going to join us soon enough. I do a double take at the four sets of bronze and silver mechanical wings with slick-looking feathers on the wall. Weren't they important?

"Where are we?" Percy is looking out the window at the mountains beyond, which seem familiar to me. They clearly aren't the large, tree-covered hills of the Appalachians; only the foothills of the Rockies, in my limited experience, go from nearly completely flat and horizontal land to flat-land-that-is-tilted about forty five degrees. Of course I know about plate tectonics and all that, but just then it occurs to me that, for a large enough god, the rockies would make a pretty sweet skateboard ramp.

Hey, bad jokes, maybe I do fit in here.

Suddenly a man with long gray hair tied in a pony tail but a relatively young-looking face appears at the top of the spiral staircase. "Colorado Springs," he says, and I hear the others gasp and spin to face him. "The Garden of the Gods."

"You," Annabeth says accusingly. "What have you done with Daedalus?" Something niggles at the back of my mind as I try to recall this scene.

The man smiles faintly. "Trust me, my dear. You don't want to meet him."

"Look, Mr. Traitor," she growls. "I didn't fight a dragon woman and a three-bodied man and a psychotic sphinx just to see you." Whoa, I don't remember those things! "Now where is Daedalus?"

The man starts to descend slowly, and all of a sudden it hits me, so I blurt it out without thinking. "Daedalus?"

His face whips around to look at me as if he hadn't noticed me before. "A new companion..." I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, which turns to confusion. "Who are you?"

I get the feeling he's asking more than just my name, but thankfully I'm saved by Percy. "But you're not an inventor, you're a swordsman," he blurts out. Wow, I'm drawing a blank here.

"I am both," Daedalus says, and I'm impressed he keeps his voice neutral and doesn't roll his eyes. "And an architect. And a scholar. I also play basketball pretty well for a guy who didn't start until he was two thousand years old. A real artist must be good at many things."

That's right! He had been at Camp Halfblood! I don't know why the basketball bit triggered that memory, I'm not even sure he played in the book.

"That's true," Rachel agrees amiably. She seems remarkably unfazed by the millennia-old inventor/swordsman/basketball player in front of her. "Like I can paint with my feet as well as my hands."

"Talented girl," he says idly, keeping his eyes on me. I try to keep my face blank. "Now—"

"Is that an illusion?" Percy maintains a tense posture as if expecting a fight any moment, but he jerks his head over toward the windows and the majestic vista outside.

Daedalus's searching gaze lingers a moment longer, then he turns to the windows.

"No, it's real," Rachel says. "We're really in Colorado."

Daedalus looks back in surprise. "Yes we are. You have clear vision, don't you? Talented, indeed. You remind me of another mortal girl I once knew..."

"Ariadne," Annabeth murmurs.

He frowns slightly at the memory and nods. "Ariadne."

Percy furrows his brows and seems to process what he's heard so far, then he shakes his head. "But you don't even look like Daedalus," he says finally. "I saw him in a dream, and..." He trails off and a moment later his eyes widen.

"Yes," Daedalus says. "You've finally guessed the truth."

"You're an automaton," Percy says. "Just like Perdix showed you. You made yourself a new body."

The man's face darkened at that name, though I can't remember why. "Percy," Annabeth says nervously, "that's not possible. That—that can't be an automaton."

Daedalus chuckles grimly. "Do you know what Quintus means, my dear?"

"The fifth, in Latin, but—"

"This is my fifth body." He holds out his forearm and presses his elbow with two fingers. I almost jump back when a panel of completely natural-looking flesh pops open to reveal whirring bronze gears and glowing wires.

"That's amazing!" I look at Rachel like she's crazy.

"That's weird," Percy says.

Annabeth still looks decidedly uncomfortable. "You found a way to transfer your animus into a machine? That's...not natural." Animus...idly I think that's a good name for the white magic within me, if it's still there. Better than waffling between Life magic and Soul magic.

"Oh, I assure you, my dear, it's still me. I'm still very much Daedalus. Our mother, Athena, makes sure I never forget that." He pulls back the collar of his shirt to show Percy something, though I can't see since I'm still keeping my distance from the man who so unnerved me with what might have been a simple question.

"A murderer's brand," Annabeth says, lowering herself down from her tiptoes.

"For your nephew, Perdix," Percy says. "The boy you pushed off the tower."

 _Poseidon's balls_ , Percy, are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?

Surprisingly, Daedalus only frowns. "I did not push him, I just—"

"—made him lose his balance," Percy finishes. "Let him die."

The man turns his face away in shame. "I regret what I did, Percy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird—a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand appears on my skin."

I frown as I realize the man seems more angry at being branded than killing his own nephew. That's pretty messed up. "You really are Daedalus," Percy says finally. "But why did you come to camp? Why spy on us?"

"To see if your camp was worth saving," the swordsman says evenly. "Luke had given me one story. I preferred to come to my own conclusions."

"So you have talked to Luke," Percy pushes.

"Oh, yes. Several times. He is quite persuasive."

"But now you've seen the camp!" Annabeth sounds excited, but I don't think she should be. "So you know we need your help. You can't let Luke through the maze!"

Daedalus sets his sword on the workbench in front of him. "The maze is no longer mine to control, Annabeth. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."

She frowns. "Privacy from what?"

"The gods," he says. "And death. I have been alive for two millennia, my dear, hiding from death."

"But how can you hide from Hades?" Percy looks confused. "I mean, Hades has the Furies."

"They do not know everything," the older man replies. "Or see everything. You have encountered them, Percy. You know this is true. A clever man can hide quite a long time, and I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted."

"You mean Minos," Percy says. I vaguely remember the ghost...he was a king, I believe, and he messes around with Nico after his sister dies. But what does he actually _do_ in the series? I curse myself for not remembering more than this.

The man nods. "He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better than for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos's ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."

Well there's his backstory, but it doesn't help me with what he's actually about to do. I still can't remember! "And you did, for two thousand years." Annabeth says, impressed.

"Yes, well..." Daedalus says, apparently slightly embarrassed. It strikes me as odd at first that such an old man would have such normal emotions, but then I realize he's probably been largely alone for much of that time. His eyes fall on me once again, and his expression changes almost immediately. I force myself to keep my expression blank, despite wishing he would just go on forgetting I'm here. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage now, Mr...?"

"Lerner," I say. "William Lerner."

"Undetermined," Annabeth supplies, then takes a breath to add more, but seems to think better of it.

I can't stop my lips from twitching into a smile. Daedalus would understand something of my abilities...such as they are...if she mentioned her hypothesis about me being a son of Hecate. I figure for a child of Athena, facing an unknown changes tactics considerably, especially since he's so far out of sword-striking range.

"Unclaimed," he says slowly, "at your age?"

I shrug. "Never went to Camp."

The old man frowns at my non-answer and waits for me to elaborate, but I don't. I'm pretty sure he turns out to be a good guy in the end, but it's not like being too careful is a bad thing while I'm traveling around with the demigod hero of the entire series. "I...see," he says slowly.

Just then a loud bark echoes in the hall outside the door, followed by the faint sound of a bounding animal that grows louder and louder. Suddenly the largest dog I've ever seen charges into the workshop, straight for Percy. My hand shoots up and my magic surges toward it in response. I'm not going to be fast enough.

Then it bounds right over him.

"There is my old friend," Daedalus says with a laugh when the enormous canine nearly tackles him. "My only companion all these long, lonely years."

The torrent of magic cycles back down, but it's still throbbing everytime my heart pounds. I feel my face heat. Luckily, he hadn't noticed what I tried to do...but the girls are looking at me, wide-eyed.

"You let her save me," Percy says in surprise. "The whistle actually worked."

I try to focus on the conversation to calm myself down. I remember the whistle, and I remember him using it in the arena that Rachel had mentioned in passing while we were camped. Percy had to fight...something, and he had to get it off the ground to hurt it. Then Luke, as Annabeth had mentioned before our dash here, turned his bad guys on them, and they ran, ending up where I saw them.

Another puzzle piece falls into place. I take a deep breath, letting the feeling of relief wash over me as my magic and my heart settle. I glance at the girls, who both glance at me questioningly. I shake my head slightly, but I can see that won't satisfy them. The interrogation will continue later, I'm sure.

"Of course it did, Percy," Daedalus says. "You have a good heart, and I know Mrs. O'Leary liked you. I wanted to help you." He looks down at his feet, then. "Perhaps I—I felt guilty, as well."

Percy cocks his head back in surprise. "Guilty about what?"

"That your quest would be in vain," the old man replies softly.

"What?" Annabeth's eyes snap back to him and go wide. "But you can still help us...you have to! Give us Ariadne's String so Luke can't get it."

"Yes...the string," he says. "I told Luke that the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are the best guide, but he did not trust me. He was so focused on the idea of a magic item. And the string works—it's not as accurate as your mortal friend here, perhaps—but good enough. Good enough."

"Where is it?"

"With Luke," he says sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you are several hours too late." The dismayed look on Percy and Annabeth's face is painful, and I find myself getting angry at this guy. "Kronos promised me freedom," he continues. "Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."

"That's your brilliant idea?" Annabeth is fuming. "You're going to let Luke destroy your camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and then attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"

I scoff. "No, he's going to bring down the entire world on the _promise_ of getting what he wants. How much you wanna bet Kronos reneges on it, now that he has what they need from him?" That's a safe bet, because I'm pretty sure I remember them being attacked here, now.

Wait... _I remember them being attacked here_! Oh, shit. What the hell do I do? How do they escape? Wait, the wings! There are four sets! I wait until he starts talking before I begin sidling over to them.

"It doesn't make sense for him to go back on his word," Daedalus argues calmly. "He can't do everything himself, and there aren't enough titans to—"

Annabeth lets out a growl of frustration and kicks over an easel with a stack of architectural drawings. "I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now…I don't know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago."

The old man surprisingly just hangs his head. "You should go warn your camp. Now that Luke has the string—"

Suddenly the hellhound's ears perk up.

Rachel snaps her gaze toward the entrance. "Someone's coming!"

The distinctive clanging of chains echoes through and in a moment, a small, thin boy younger than any of my companions is shoved through the door, his hands bound in the chains we just heard. Then a positively gorgeous young woman with dark skin and dark, curly hair enters, flanked by two grotesque, hulking figures over twice her height. A pale, greenish ghost follows shortly after, wearing a simultaneously hateful and gleeful expression as he fixes his gaze on Daedalus. "There you are, my old friend," he rasps out slowly.

Well, that answers the question on whether or not I can see through the Mist.

The automaton backs up a step. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Luke sends his compliments," the woman says in a sultry voice. "He thought you might like to see your old employer Minos."

"This was not part of our agreement," the old man says nervously. I risk a glance at him, and his eyes flicker to mine briefly. I interpret it as a guilty look.

"No indeed, but we already have what we want from you," Kelli says. I resist the urge to facepalm. "...And we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod." She runs a finger under the boy's chin, who impressively does not react. "He'll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man."

I'm pretty sure the pre-game taunting isn't going to last much longer, so I start thinking of a way to slip over to the wings.

Then, the boy in chains pops up in my mind. Nico di Angelo. Oh, damn, Nico needs them to escape, too! Or does he? Isn't he kind of a badass? Or is that in the future? Damn damn damn! Well, at least I haven't grown too attached to this world this time. I'm pretty sure I'll just wake up in my normal reality if I die, but honestly, I'd rather not find out that I'm wrong. Just because it worked once doesn't mean it'll work again. But I don't see any way out except through fighting...and Daedalus survives, right? I decide maybe I can even the odds a bit. The woman...I vaguely remember she's some kind of succubus or something, but what might work against her? Or should I go for the giant? I haven't had the chance to develop any kind of familiarity with canon magic, or _mystiokinesis_ , as Annabeth calls it. So...the trusty, old concentrated bar of superheated plasma it is, even though I'll be completely knocked out of the fight that way and an easy target.

Screwing up my courage, I clear my throat before I change my mind. The woman's head snaps toward me, and I feel an interestingly familiar mental pull...an urge to please her...

"What have we here?" The woman speaks slowly, ratcheting up the sultry tone, raising a delicate eyebrow, and effortlessly striking a pose that accentuates her beauty. "You...smell different than these others," she says, but her confusion is quickly hidden behind a seductive smile as she takes slow, deliberate steps toward me. "How about...a kiss?"

"Will, don't!" Annabeth calls, but I hold up a hand to stop her. She doesn't know me well enough to know that I'm pretending to be enthralled, but hopefully, I can end this before they react.

I feel myself start to sweat as I attempt to fight off the aura she's projecting while maintaining the illusion that I've already fallen for it. I take a small step to the side so that the big, ugly brute is right behind her. "A kiss..." I say slowly, reaching my hand out, palm facing her.

"NO!" Annabeth yells and starts moving, so I just have to hope the succubus is too close to dodge, now. She's still a dozen feet away when I lock my elbow, brace my right arm with my left hand, and throw open open the floodgates on my magic. A painfully bright reddish-orange bar blasts from my hand—smaller than I hoped, but thick as a softball—directly at her chest, sending me flying the other direction from the recoil. As I'm falling still in what seems to be slow motion, I see her eyes widen in surprise as the beam slams into her ample chest.

The last thing I see is the woman's beautiful face turn gray and start to disintegrate into particles of dust before the light once again fades from my world.

* * *

A/N:

RIP canon, we hardly knew ye.

And the Ultima demi-flare makes a reappearance! At some point, William's going to have to learn a signature move that doesn't immediately wipe him out. It would probably be a better story if it failed this time, but fortunately for our protagonist, it's just plain old me writing!

Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3: A New Prophecy

Disclaimer: Rick Riordan can launch blasts of superheated plasma at fanfiction authors playing in the Percy Jackson universe with a mere thought. No word on whether it can reach fanfiction readers as well. _Caveat lector_.

* * *

 **A Curse of Prophecy**

 **Chapter Three**

 **A New Prophecy**

* * *

My first thought, as my brain struggles to restore my surroundings to clarity, is to wonder exactly how many layers of déjà vu one can experience before one loses any last shred of sanity.

"Will?" I try to open my eyes, but I only get a blurry blonde head to match with the soft female voice before I have to shut them again. Blonde? I don't usually see fair hair when waking up from being knocked out. The sad fact that there is a "usually" involved when I think about waking up from being knocked out doesn't escape me.

"Is he awake already?" A male voice this time, killing the déjà vu. I remember now: I'm in the Percy Jackson universe now. Couldn't I be transported to a less hostile universe sometime? Perhaps one universe to the left? But then, considering my library of books and video games, that seems rather optimistic. In fact, now that I think about it, I could have done much, _much_ worse.

I make a groaning, grunting sound that is meant to be an affirmative reply.

"You said several hours, before," the girl—Annabeth, I correct myself—said, "but it's only been two."

Huh, I haven't lost my touch, I guess. "Where—?" My tongue feels thick from the unnatural slumber and my head is pounding something fierce, so I stop to swallow and scrape my tongue against my teeth, trying to force some blood into it. "Where are we?"

"Camp Half-blood," Percy says, the weariness in his voice suddenly breaking through the fuzzy barrier surrounding my awareness. "We just got back."

"We didn't want to try giving you Nectar, um, since we don't know if..." Annabeth trails off, eyes widening slightly and flickering to Daedalus.

He didn't miss the implication. "Don't know if you're a demigod? But surely..." Daedalus trails off as well.

"Hecate was around when the Titans were in power," Annabeth says slowly, her eyes pointed toward nothing, unfocused as her thoughts churned behind them. "She's older than Zeus, and one of the few beings to retain her power after he cast down Kronos."

I blink at the non sequitur. My brain is too fuzzy to follow her train of thought.

Percy makes a sour face. "She's a Titan? But I thought—"

"They aren't really separate," Annabeth cuts him off, anticipating his question. "Gods and Titans are both immortal beings, we just call them different things based on which side they took." She looks back at me and opens her mouth to continue, but seems to change her mind.

"I can see your thoughts churning, Annabeth," I croak out, getting her back on track. Percy raised his eyebrows at me. "What have you got?"

She shakes her head. "It's...nothing...just thinking of possible—"

A sour, wrinkly-faced, gray-haired satyr bursts through the door, cutting her off. A barrel-chested, shaggy brown-haired centaur enters just behind him. "Silenus, you mustn't—"

"What are you?" The satyr, Silenus, it must be, asks bluntly.

"We were hoping you might help with that," Annabeth answered for me, then turned to me. "Silenus is the...he's on the Council of Cloven Elders," she explains, slightly emphasizing the last word, as if I need her to tell me the guy is old. Or perhaps she is just insulting him, I can't tell.

"Tutored Mr. D. himself," the centaur adds helpfully.

Okay, that's way older than I thought. Satyrs actually tutored Gods?

"And I'm Chiron, activities coordinator here at Camp Half-blood. This young lady here—" he gestures to Rachel, who had apparently snuck in beside him, "—tells me you got them out of a tight spot in Quintus' workshop."

Daedalus looks away from Chiron's intimidating gaze.

"He did," Annabeth confirms. "It was the most incredible—"

"This is no son of Hecate," Silenus cuts back in, fixing me with a glare. "You are neither demigod nor monster. Yet you do not smell like a normal human, either, like this one." He also gestures to Rachel, and takes a moment to glare at her as well before turning back to me. "So I ask again: _what are you_?"

Shocked silence blankets the cabin. I look to Annabeth for support, but she's now being held back slightly by Percy. His hand is in his pocket, no doubt grasping the pen form of his sword.

"I...I don't know," I say, my face heating.

"Liar!" Silenus shouts, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Stop it!" Annabeth yells. "He's a friend, okay? That's all that matters!"

She glances at Percy, then elbows him in the kidney. "Uh, she's right. He's had plenty of time to betray us," he says, looking pointedly at Daedalus, "but he hasn't."

"But then, sometimes it takes awhile before the betrayal becomes evident," Chiron adds, disappointment clear in his voice. He didn't look like someone that could pull it off, but judging by how everyone in the room other than Silenus started studying their shoes, he certainly had the 'disappointed parent' voice down pat.

"I'm sorry, okay?" If Daedalus still had a human body, his face would probably be beet red. "I made a bad decision, and I paid for it."

Chiron arches an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, a _lot_ of bad decisions over a long stretch of time, and I'll be paying for it the rest of my life. Happy?"

Chiron opens his mouth to reply, but the door bursts open once again to reveal a tall, tanned man with light brown hair wearing leather armor and bracers. My eyes flicker to the long, bronze-capped wooden bow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back, and a memory tickles my fuzzed brain. Chiron recovers more quickly. "Lee? What is—?"

He trails off when Lee quickly steps in the doorway and off to the side. I freeze in fear as a skeletal, human-shaped creature with stretched, gray skin shambles in behind him. The thin, leathery bag of bones is vaguely recognizable as female, based on the clothing and hair, but from the complete lack of musculature that I can see it should be physically impossible for her to walk. And yet, she continues her unnatural and mechanical gait...directly at me. Nobody says a word as she halts at my bedside, and I fight every instinct to run even though nobody else is. Her sunken eyes are closed, for which I am quite thankful...until she opens them a moment later.

I stare into a black void for a moment that feels like an eternity, then I flinch back at the sudden emergence of dull blue light in her eyes and the grating rasp of a voice.

 _The Traveler must travel o'er_ _many seas  
_ _To seek the Seeker and hear her pleas,  
_ _To trade with Traders of many faces,  
_ _And betray the Betrayers from many places.  
_ _Free the daughter, trapped on her isle,  
_ _Convince the mother with three smiles.  
_ _A heroine of charm and a heroine of deceit  
_ _Must bring home the lady to avoid defeat._

I barely notice the blue light wink out, and the Oracle—as I finally realize she must be—turns awkwardly and shambles back out through stunned silence.

Percy, surprisingly, is the first one to recover. "Um...what?"

That sets off a chain reaction of excited chatter, and only then do I realize much of the camp had followed the Oracle to hear the prophecy. "SILENCE!" Chiron bellows and the throng of demigods obey.

"It's impossible, Chiron," Silenus protests in the sudden quiet, "we don't even know—"

"The Oracle has spoken, Silenus," Chiron counters. "There can be none here who doubt that the prophecy was delivered to our visitor."

" _The Traveler_ ," Annabeth murmurs, looking at me strangely.

"It said _to seek the Seeker_ ," Percy says. "That must mean Grover! We have to help!"

"No, the Seeker in this prophecy is female," Annabeth points out. " _To seek the Seeker and hear_ her _pleas_."

"And I fear your quest is not yet at an end, Percy," Chiron says. "Has Annabeth's prophecy been fulfilled?"

Percy looks chagrined and shoots Annabeth an apologetic look. "Well, what about the daughter trapped on her isle, that must mean Calypso, right? Will she...can she finally be free?" His voice is strained; I had forgotten he actually considered staying with her. Was that in this book? She's the one cursed to fall in love with heroes sent to her that can never stay. It's such a horrible fate; a reminder that the gods are not exactly benevolent around here. I wouldn't mind giving that rescue mission a shot, though it would mean going against the gods.

Annabeth bites her lip, clearly torn as to how to feel about that. "I don't think so. The mother with three smiles is a giveaway for Hecate."

"An astute observation, Annabeth," Chiron says, "and most likely correct. I had initially taken that to mean the Traveller would have to make the mother smile three times."

"I'm sorry, Will. I think you'll have to go to Circe's Island," she says with a grimace.

Percy's expression mirrors hers. "I don't suppose you can stop yourself becoming a guinea pig, can you?"

"I'll give it a shot," I say, feeling a bit nauseated at the thought of pitting my magic against a goddess. And that's only assuming I can get past the monsters guarding the island. Scylla and Charybdis, I believe Annabeth called them.

"What was that bit about Traders?" Daedalus asks suddenly. The group around my bed turn to look at him. "Was it _traders_ , or _traitors_?" He emphasizes the 'D' and the 'T' respectively, and I realize I'm not sure either.

"An apt question, _Quintus_ ," Chiron says meaningfully, rubbing his beard. "The Oracle's voice was unclear."

"Traders makes more sense—" Percy begins.

"—but traitors is more dangerous," Annabeth finishes, glaring at Daedalus. "Prophecies are always vague, that this one included ambiguous words is not surprising."

"Indeed," Chiron said, shifting as if in preparation to leave. The others seemed to pick up on this as well. "We shall discuss this once our Traveler is recovered and we've had the story from the Labyrinth. Then, tonight, following our welcome and farewell feast, our new quest shall embark."

At that clear dismissal, Lee steps out of the cabin and shouts that the show is over and they're returning to archery practice. Silenus grumpily takes his leave as well, leaving our original party and Chiron. Rachel has a far-off look in her eyes, and she seems to be softly repeating the prophecy over and over. Annabeth looks at me worriedly, then turns away and won't meet my eyes. Daedalus is studying the floor, and Chiron is staring through the door, probably pondering what just happened.

"We have to go back in," Percy says, breaking the silence. "We have to find Grover."

"Luke is probably marching Kronos' forces through the Labyrinth right now," Daedalus argues. "It's too dangerous. We have to guard the entrance."

"There is another way," a small voice says from the darkest corner, making me jump. I hadn't even realized Nico di Angelo was there. His sharp eyes are on Daedalus. Ah, yes, the Labyrinth is tied to his life, that's how the book ended.

Annabeth catches on, too. "But, won't he—?"

"—die, yes," Daedalus says woodenly.

"No!" Percy shouts. "We have to get Grover and Tyson out first! We have to find them!"

Chiron studies each of us in turn. "We have no way of knowing where Kronos' forces are..."

"But—" Percy begins to interrupt.

"But," Chiron says with a hand up to stave him off, "we cannot ask Quintus to do this. Just, please, come back before they arrive. We will need every bit of help we can get."

His grim voice makes me feel pretty bad about leaving...not to mention probably taking two demigods with me. Of course, I'm also rather relieved to miss the battle. If I recall correctly, there are some messed up monsters on their way here. "Are you sure you wouldn't like me to postpone the quest until after the battle?" I ask anyway.

"I can vouch for his ability," Daedalus speaks up. "He vaporized an empousa and a Laistrygonian giant with a single _Pyrokinetic_ blast the likes of which I've never seen."

Chiron's eyebrows jump at that. "Indeed?"

"I thought he used _Misty_ -whatever," Percy says, glancing at Annabeth with a questioning look.

"There aren't very clear lines drawn between them," Annabeth says thoughtfully. "It could be either...if Hephaestus cabin saw what he did, they'd certainly claim him as a brother just as strongly as Lou Ellen. She's the eldest child of Hecate we know of. Technically unclaimed, but the _Mystiokinesis_ gives her away." She adds that last for my benefit. I certainly don't remember her, but the way she phrases it reminds me that the only the twelve Olympians have cabins at the moment. It isn't until the second series that they change that. "Either way, what he did knocked him out for hours. It's too dangerous."

I didn't know whether to feel offended or relieved. "He's leading a quest, you know," Percy chimes in sarcastically. "Those tend to be a bit dangerous."

Chiron continues rubbing his beard, frowning in thought. "The end of the prophecy said, ' _a heroine of charm and a heroine of deceit must bring home the lady to avoid defeat._ ' It would be folly to keep you here if there's a chance we need this lady to avoid defeat."

That point makes my blood run cold. Here's the thing: they already would have won if I hadn't shown up. What did I do to screw that up? Or what _will_ I do? Last time I just saved a few people and moved up the timeline. This time, my presence may have doomed all of Camp Halfblood, or, based on what I remember, potentially even Olympus itself.

The pressure of it threatens to overwhelm me. This must be how the main characters feel all the time. I look up at Percy with what I'm sure is a haunted look, but he either misunderstands or thinks he's being helpful by giving me a thumbs up.

Yeah, not helpful.

"But there's no way he'll be finished so quickly," Daedalus continues, apparently unaware of my internal turmoil.

"I agree it is unlikely," Chiron admits, "especially if he has to travel to Circe's Island, and if that's only the first of ' _many seas._ ' But perhaps we can take heart in that. After all, surely we will survive the coming battle if we are to avoid the defeat mentioned in the prophecy." He turns to me. "Taking all this into consideration, I do not believe it's worth the risk to keep you here, even at the cost of two of our number. As impressive as your abilities sound, I believe it best for you to be off as quickly as your recovery will allow. That goes for you, as well, Percy, Annabeth."

"And me," Rachel says defiantly, finally shaking herself out of her odd trance she'd been in since the Oracle. If I didn't already know that she'll become the Oracle in a year or so, it would seem like odd behavior. She moves purposefully to stand by Percy. "They'll need me if they're going back into the Labyrinth." Well, I guess she is undeterred by my words about angst last night. Well, either that, or she's happy to take advantage of Percy's cluelessness to rankle Annabeth. I wouldn't put it past her.

Annabeth looks like she sucked on a lemon for a moment, but she quickly hides it. "Nico? Will you help as well?"

He doesn't bother hiding his sour expression at that. "I'm not staying here, I might as well go along."

"We could use your help here, Quintus," Chiron says. The message is clear: Daedalus will be staying in Chiron's sight as much as possible.

He merely nods in acquiescence, keeping his head bowed. For such an old man, he is kind of a pushover...it's no surprise Luke was able to convince him to help Kronos. To be fair, though, I guess he hasn't spent much time among the living.

"We'll leave at the same time," Annabeth offers.

"No, that's okay," I say quickly. My voice doesn't tremble as much as I expect. I hope. I remember that Percy, Annabeth, Nico, and Rachel took the wings from Daedalus' workshop and took a detour trying to find another entrance, so hopefully, they'll have enough time to help Grover and Tyson. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't want to hold you up...not with your friends down there."

Percy stiffens at that reminder, and I could tell I got Annabeth with it, too. She bites her lip. "You'll be okay here by yourself?"

I force a smile at her concern and feel like I should tease her, but it quickly fades as she reminds me of another girl from another life. "I'll be alright," I say, forcing a smile.

"It sounds like he'll have _a heroine of charm and a heroine of deceit_ to keep him company soon enough," Percy says with a smirk.

Unexpectedly I cough out a laugh, despite the continued reminders of my past. "Going on a quest with two beautiful ladies...it's positively awful I tell you."

Rachel crosses her arms. "How do you know they'll be beautiful?"

I smile mischievously at the trio. "Who said I was talking about my quest?"

Annabeth did not find that amusing.

The trio heading back into the Labyrinth sticks around a little longer until I reassure them satisfactorily that I will, in fact, be okay by myself. After all, I made it this long without a pair of demigod companions, didn't I? It feels a little odd sending them on their way when the last time I did this I stuck with the main characters the whole time. Way to completely wipe out any advantage my foreknowledge gives me, Oracle of Delphi!

"Take care of yourself, Will," Annabeth says worriedly, then leans over to give me a hug. "Come back to us," she adds in a whisper.

"I will," I say far more confidently than I feel. It reminds me of a similar promise I'd broken not too far in the past.

"And thank you for your help in the Labyrinth," she says with a meaningful look. I think she means more than just the fight at the end.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Percy says, clapping me on the shoulder. "And good luck."

"Good luck?" Rachel asks incredulously. "Good luck? That's the best you've got?"

"Hey, it was a heartfelt good luck," Percy says defensively.

"And I felt it in my heart," I say. "I can feel my luck is far gooder than it was before."

"You're welcome," Percy replies, just as deadpan.

"Boys are weird," Rachel says, breaking the false solemnity and causing Percy and me to chuckle.

"But at least we speak plainly," I counter, causing her to blush and resolutely avoid looking at Percy and Annabeth.

"Well, you do make things interesting, so I guess I'll miss you," she says.

I laugh. "I guess it's up to you to make sure things don't get boring, then, isn't it?"

"I guess so," she says with a smile, which quickly fades as she looks at me. No, not at me...through me. She opens her mouth to say something, but her lip trembles and tears start to form in her eyes, so she pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispers in my ear, "for what is coming."

The blood drains from my face. Rachel is going to be the Oracle, and she's not just talking in generalities. "Shit," I breathe. All that pressure I felt before comes roaring back.

Nobody chides me on my language, and Rachel hugs me tighter.

After several moments of silence, Chiron clears his throat and quietly-somehow-makes his way to my bedside. His sudden nearness is so unexpected that it almost jars me out of the deep funk in which I was about to lose myself. Almost. Rachel slips away, and suddenly I feel...weak...lost. I can't bear to see such pity, so I don't meet her eyes. "William," Chiron begins in what I recognize as the voice of a lecturer, "the demigods here learn from a very early age what it is to be courageous. It is not the lack of fear that marks them, but the willingness to go on despite it. Admittedly I know very little of you and your history, but single-handedly defeating both an empousa and a Laistrygonian giant in a single blow is a feat everyone in this camp would struggle to replicate."

Murmured agreement ripples through my former companions.

"And know this: the Oracle of Delphi does not give prophecies lightly. You were fated to undertake this quest, and that means it is within your power to succeed. It will not be easy; it may require pain, sacrifice, difficult decisions, tests of strength or knowledge...but you can overcome it. You can succeed, no, you _will_ succeed, if only you reach out and grasp every advantage given to you."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Percy and Annabeth stand up straighter.

"But most importantly, you will not be alone. Your companions are your strength; trust them. Trust them, trust yourself, and trust the gods that watch over you, and you will succeed."

"Chiron..." Annabeth says, and I know she's feeling the pins and needles that I am. Percy looks like he's ready to punch a mountain in half, Rachel is staring at the centaur in awe, and so, surprisingly, is Nico.

"That goes for the four of you as well," he says, sweeping his gaze over them. "Come, let's get you some fresh supplies and send you on your way. Quintus, fetch a healer from Apollo cabin for William, then meet us at the entrance to the Labyrinth."

Daedalus gives us one last look, nods sharply, then strides out of the cabin. Annabeth squeezes my shoulder one last time. "We'll see you when you get back."

" _When_ you get back," Percy repeats firmly.

Rachel takes my hand in both of hers and squeezes it. I finally raise my eyes to meet hers, but they are locked on our hands. "Trust," she says. "I trust you will do what is best. Chiron is right, it had to be you. It _has_ to be you."

I give her a half-smile. I'm sure she has some vague idea of what will happen, but dwelling on it now will do no good. I recall Chiron's words about courage, and that I said something similar to a young boy once, though the centaur said it a million times better. "Please be careful, Rachel. They need you. This camp needs you."

Her eyes snap up to mine, wide with surprise.

"Courage," I say, squeezing her hand lightly. I start to say I'll see her later, but the words don't feel right.

"Courage," she agrees, then drops my hand and follows Percy and Annabeth out.

It is only after she leaves that I realize Nico had already slipped out without my noticing. I shift the pillows behind me and lie back, starting to think about the prophecy, and who I might ask to accompany me, but I could tell that line of thought would make my headache worse. I turn my senses inward and try to gently prod my magic, which makes me wince in pain. It feels...thin, stretched. "Like butter, scraped over too much bread," I say dramatically into the silence. Wrong fantasy series.

The door opens before I can chuckle at my own amusing thoughts. "Hello," a pretty, athletic blonde girl with a kind smile says from the doorway. The obnoxiously orange camp tee wraps tightly around her upper body, held in place with straps from her quiver of arrows and her bow.

I see no healing supplies, though. "Hello."

"I'm Kayla from Cabin Seven-sorry, that's Apollo cabin."

"William—"

"Lerner, I heard. Lots of excitement going around here. The whole Camp knows your life story, by now." I doubt that. I smile anyway, though. "Anyway, I'm just here to try and sing you to sleep, so make yourself comfortable."

I start to do so when her words hit me. "Wait, what? Did you say _sing me to sleep_?"

"Well, yes," she says, somewhat embarrassed. "We're not sure if it'll work, but..."

"It's worth a try."

She nods. "It will be a peaceful sleep, I promise. I'm...pretty good at it."

I smile at her modesty. "Tell the truth, you're the best, aren't you?"

"Well, with men...probably," she says with a blush.

"Well, now you've got me intrigued." I start to sit up to ask more questions, but she starts shaking her head.

"Uh uh, lay back and get comfortable, mister."

"Okay, okay," I say. I fix my pillows, lay back, stretch my whole body, then relax. "Whenever you're ready."

I hear about two Ancient Greek words that I don't understand before I'm fast asleep.

* * *

A/N:

Since the demigods didn't have to escape Daedalus' workshop (I leave how they defeated the last Laistrygonian giant and chased off Minos to your imagination), they took the Labyrinth straight back to Camp Half-blood. In canon, they go to New York to drop off Rachel, then fly back to camp..

In some classical literature, Silenus is a satyr older than the gods, and he did indeed tutor Dionysus.

I actually had the first bit written over a year ago, but I looked at the last paragraph of the first scene and realized I had an opportunity to show far more character interactions with the main canon characters. That one paragraph blew up into a full two-thirds of this chapter.

Apollo children can heal people by singing a song to their father. I think that's from the wiki, but once again I wrote that sentence a year ago so I don't remember the source. That might be something from classical literature, too, I have no idea. Anyhow, I figure to heal I need sleep, so that's what happens when Kayla does it. Kayla (along with her brother, who appears in the next chapter) appears in The Last Olympian at the Battle of Manhattan, but that is the only time they are mentioned in canon.

Now that I'm editing this years later, I'm kinda proud of Chiron's speech. Also, now that I'm editing this years later, did you notice that Annabeth was thinking out loud and about to make some kind of hypothesis about me until she got interrupted? I either forgot to go back to it, or it was meant to be foreshadowing. Dun dun! Spoiler alert: I have no idea where I was going with that.


	4. Chapter 4: Companions

Disclaimer: Rick Riordan's song will not heal authors who try to claim the Percy Jackson universe as their own. Quite the opposite, in fact.

* * *

 **A Curse of Power**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Companions**

* * *

I feel myself gradually awaken, as if floating up from the bottom of a pool. I take a deep breath and stretch, enjoying the warmth of the bed...with the sort of stiff, starchy sheets commonly found in hotels. Suddenly fully mentally alert, the events of the past few days instantly come back, and my eyes spring open.

"Lerner," a soft male voice says, and my head quickly turns to find him. "Hey," he says with a wave. "My name is Austin, Apollo cabin, Kayla said you'd wake up right about now."

"What time is it?" I realize after the fact that I'm being a bit rude, but he doesn't seem to notice. And my dry mouth from mild dehydration makes me feel like I deserve some leeway.

"There's water on your left bedside table," he says with a gesture when he notices my discomfort. "And it's a bit after four-thirty. You've still got an hour before the feast."

I sit up gingerly, grimacing against the pounding headache that induces. I grab the glass, already filled with ice cold water—apparent from the condensation on the outside—and gulp it down greedily. I'm not sure water ever tasted so good. "I should get up," I say while I refill my glass.

"Are you sure you're okay to go?"

"Should be fine," I say, then continue my quest to empty the pitcher. He fidgets while I drink, and I watch him through the distortion of the glass. He clearly wants to say something, but he stays silent. "What is it?" I ask finally.

The question spills out of his mouth excitedly. "Do you know who you're going to take?"

I try to put on a smile. "The only ones I've met already left to continue their own quest," I lie.

"Yeah, tough luck, not being able to take Jackson," he says, but then he frowns. "Of course, we could really use him here, too."

Further proof, I think, that I should avoid taking any of their best fighters. Certainly not Clarisse, even though she was there when Percy and Annabeth went to Circe's Island last time. "Who do you think I should take?"

He grins, stands up straighter and slaps his chest. "Well, me, of course! Everybody here has always wanted to go on a quest."

"The prophecy specifically said two heroines," I point out.

He waves off my concern. "Eh, that's only at the end, it sounds like. You're bound to pick up a tag-along or two on the way; those last lines could be them."

"Mmm, fair point," I say, surprised I hadn't thought of it. "But then, we're headed to see Circe first. She doesn't much like males, you know."

"Yeah, I heard," he says, slightly downtrodden. "It's okay, there's plenty here to do, anyway. Kayla and I are helping Cabin Nine—that's Hephaestus cabin, by the way—we're helping them with the traps. I think Chiron has some ideas, but it'll be up to you."

"Any recommendations from you?"

He purses his lips in thought. "A heroine of charm sounds like someone from Cabin Ten—Aphrodite. There's a girl there, Drew, who has the best charmspeak ability. She's...uh...well, she's not very nice." He blushes when he says that, and I get the sense she turned him down rather spectacularly. "Silena probably won't be happy no matter who you take, even though they'll mostly be on evac and medical teams."

That name sends a jolt through my body, though thankfully Austin isn't looking at me at the time. "Silena?"

He looks up at me, surprised. "Yeah, you know her?"

"Heard of her," I say. She ends up being a spy for Kronos! She gets herself killed at the final battle, I also remember, wearing Clarisse's armor because Ares' cabin refuses to fight. That was a rather clever homage to Achilles and Patroclus in the Trojan War, I remember thinking, but that doesn't seem like something I should let happen if I have a choice.

"Cabin Ten head counselor," he says, "kinda strict when it comes to cabin checks, but everybody likes her. She's actually decent in a fight so she wouldn't be a bad choice, though Chiron might not be happy if you take her away. Anyway, if you're ready, we should head over there."

I grunt in assent as I swing my legs over the side and slowly stand, trying to ignore the world swaying around me. Austin clamps a steadying hand on my shoulder, and only then do I realize he's, surprisingly, taller than I am. It makes sense, I suppose, having a god for a father. The height probably helps out when it comes to archery.

"I heard the whole thing, you know," Austin says once we're on our way. "The Oracle of Delphi is Apollo's responsibility, and I was standing watch at the Big House when she came out. Scared the hell out of me when she did! I yelled for Lee—that's our head counselor—and most of our cabin came, too. A bunch of other campers heard, too, of course, so there was a big group of demigods and satyrs just out here."

I senses some hesitation at the end, so I ask, "and what did they think of it?"

He hesitates a moment. "Well, not everybody thinks like this, but some aren't too happy that an outsider got a quest after being here for so short a time again. But it was the same thing when Jackson got here. Just some grumbling, you know? I wouldn't worry about it."

"Anybody want to come to get away from the coming battle?"

Austin looks up in surprise. "I'm sure there are some thinking like that, but not too seriously. I mean, we all know it's bad luck to go out with more than three. And we've got some awesome fighters here, so it'll be fine. Look, there's the pavilion." He grins. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Silena."

I can't help but chuckle. "Why do I get the feeling you aren't doing that for my benefit?"

He affects a scandalized look. "She's kinda with Beckendorf, the head counselor of Hephaestus' cabin. Beck's a good guy...big as a house and ugly as sin, but a good guy. Taught Kayla and me all about traps, after all. 'Course, doesn't mean I can't talk to her, now does it?" He grins once more before turning and shouting, "Silena!"

The entire contingent of demigods — over a hundred strong, from what I can see, scattered around both the pavillion and the bonfire just to the east of it — turns to look. I resist the urge to throttle Austin.

"Oops," he says with a nervous chuckle. Once we get a little closer, he waves his hand and two of the demigods within the pavilion break off from the others. My eyes immediately pick out the one that must be Beckendorf, who seems to grow larger and larger as he draws near. He's so broad in the shoulders that he didn't seem tall from a distance, but by the time he reaches us, my eyes are just about the level of his chin. His nose is big and crooked; it had obviously been broken before and not set right. He looks like he's angry with me, too, which, based on his professional wrestler-sized bare arms, is not a good thing.

Of course, I have to focus on him to stop myself from staring at Silena. She's not that much shorter than I am, so her toned and tanned legs are about a mile long, and only covered by the shortest of jean shorts...so short the bottom of the pocket lining peaks out below the denim. Her orange Camp Half-blood tee has so much material cut from it that I wonder if it can still be called a shirt; the sleeves are gone, baring slim but toned arms, the collar is now a jagged vee, and the bottom is cut away to reveal a perfectly shapely midriff. The thick leather bracers on either arm are the only things resembling armor on her entire body, though she also wears a heavy-looking and oddly-colored pendant in the shape of a bird around her neck, tied with a double loop of some dark leather or rope. She has big, pouty, pink lips underneath a straight and slim nose, long, flowing dark brown hair that nearly reaches her navel, and dark brown eyes burning with curiosity.

Yeah, I couldn't help staring a bit. She's a godsdamn supermodel.

"Charlie Beckendorf," the enormous, dark-skinned demigod introduces himself. His voice is as deep—but far less hostile—than I imagined it would be. "Head of Cabin Nine. Pleased to meet you."

I discover that perhaps only his voice is kind because he seemingly pours his hostility into his grip, which is like iron. Then again, it's not like I'm in danger of winning any strength competitions, so maybe he's hardly even trying. I try my best to match it, in vain, of course. "William Lerner, likewise."

Silena rolls her eyes. "Boys," she mutters, but somehow her muttering comes out like honey. "Silena Beauregard," she says, her voice delicately caressing her name, "head of Cabin Ten."

"Heard you got a quest not an hour after you arrived," Charlie says with a wide grin. "Crazy stuff!"

"Yeah," I say, fumbling for a way to breach the subject. I decide to just go for broke. "I was thinking of asking Silena to come along."

She jerks upright and Beck's face tightens. "I thought you might say that," he says. "She's the best choice, to be honest..."

"I told him about Drew's charmspeak," Austin offers.

Suddenly I'm struck by an epiphany: Silena is the best choice, but not as a heroine of charm. She's the heroine of deceit! Actually, she could very well be both. "Do you think we could speak in private, Ms. Beauregard?" I regret the formality as soon as I use it...it's a nervous habit from my time in the past universe, but here it seems odd and forced. Could just be the presence of Silena throwing me off, too.

She glances at Beckendorf with an inscrutable expression. "Sure, but it's Silena."

We walk a short distance, and she glances back while I try to order my thoughts. I'm not sure from her reaction if she wants to refuse...or even if she can. Of course, dragging her kicking and screaming on a dangerous quest seems like a rather poor decision.

"I can't go," she blurts out once we're out of earshot.

I turn my eyes to her, and she drops her gaze and bites her lip. "I'm going to make it so nobody can overhear," I say, closing my eyes and prodding at my magic to make sure I can handle this. Then, like I've done dozens of times, I push out a stream of magic to form a bubble of privacy. I almost lose focus when I hear her gasp, and open my eyes to see a not-completely transparent, yellowish bubble expand between us. I'm surprised at the different behavior of magic here, but I'm grateful for the visual cue, because this is taking an alarming amount of magic to expand.

"It's okay," she calls before the bubble reaches her, holding up a hand toward Austin and Beck who are, understandably, far more alarmed than I am.

"Wow," she says when I cut it off and pant slightly. I'm not going to be doing this again if I can help it. "It's beautiful." Delicate, perfectly manicured fingers grasp at the insubstantial barrier that is buzzing lightly at us. "A son of Hecate?"

"Something like that," I say with a shrug. My stomach clenches painfully; it doesn't help that I haven't eaten all day. I force my hand away from my abdomen; it wouldn't be very reassuring to her or any other prospective quest-mates to show any weakness from this little display. "Sorry about the buzzing."

The wonder slowly melts from her face, replaced once again by concern. "It's fine, but...like I said, I can't go." Her eyes plead with an intensity not evident in her voice, so much that it makes me turn away.

"Do you know what happened in the Labyrinth?" I ask.

She cocks her head back at the apparent subject change. "I heard you took out an empousa and a laistrygonian giant with one shot. I kind of doubted that story, but this..." She trails off and gestures at the bubble.

"Not that," I say, waving it off, "I mean with Daedalus."

"They said he helped...Luke...and then was betrayed and attacked."

I nod. "Daedalus gave up Ariadne's string on the promise that he'd be left alone when Kronos won. Luke sent those monsters to attack him anyway. Do you see?" I watch as the blood drains from her face. "How much do you think his word is worth?"

She takes a step back, almost beyond the threshold of the privacy bubble. "H—how...what do you mean?"

"It's fine, I haven't told anybody else," I say, answering a question she hadn't asked. "But I can help you. Come with me, and tell Luke that you didn't have a choice. Chiron insisted, or something. Learn from Daedalus' mistake; Charlie is not any safer with an empty promise."

Her head droops. "I...but...how do you know that? Why are you doing this?" Then she looks up, eyes shining with tears. "Why not take somebody trustworthy?"

I put on what I hope is a reassuring smile. "I already know your deepest, darkest secret and I'll take it to the grave. What else is left for us if we don't trust each other?"

"Blackmail," she says pointedly.

"You wound me, Silena! I would never stoop so low," I lie. "Besides, I've heard you're a deft hand with a spear. I have no doubt that you could silence me without breaking a sweat."

She scoffs and gestures at the bubble around us again. "If this is any indication, I doubt I could even touch you if you didn't want me to."

I know she doesn't mean it like it sounds, but it's still enough to make me nearly choke on my own saliva. "Right," I say eventually. "Well, I certainly don't mind cultivating that reputation, but I have my doubts. All I've got is magic; I'm useless with a weapon. There, now you have a secret of mine as well."

"Somehow I don't think we're quite even," she says wryly.

"Well, I'm sure you'll make it up to me in spades when you have to save me over and over again."

"I suppose..."

"Are we quest mates, then?"

She bites her lip nervously once again, and I think to myself that I really wish she wouldn't do that. "Are you sure? What if...he asks me to spy on you?"

I think that clearly she doesn't have a problem hiding secrets, but I can't think of a nice way to put it, so I shrug. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, and we'll do it together."

She gives me a hopeful, teary-eyed smile, then surprises me with a hug. "Thank you." Her hug inspires uncomfortable memories, so awkwardly I give her a pat on the back or two before she pushes away. "Okay, so maybe your defenses aren't that good after all..." I look down to find a small knife pressed against my chest. "Just so we're clear," she says, her voice clear of the emotion that was there just a moment earlier, "I meant every word I said and I like that you were open with me, but if you try to blackmail me or try to double-cross me in any way, I will not hesitate to slip this knife between your ribs."

Oh, shit. "I hope you'll save that for the ones that deserve it," I say, proud that my voice doesn't break.

Her knife slips back into her bracer almost faster than I can follow it. "I just wanted to show you that I'm not a pushover. I don't know how you found out he approached me, but I'm thankful you talked me into correcting that mistake." I take an involuntary step back when she takes one toward me, and I feel myself flush with embarrassment when I see her holding out a hand. She giggles at me. "There's hope for you, yet."

With a sheepish grin I take her proffered hand. The strength of her grip surprises me. "Don't speak too soon, my fatal flaw is almost certainly a pretty face and a smile."

She attacks my fatal flaw with gusto. "Oh, you are in trouble. Come on, let's go tell Charlie. I think we're making him nervous."

With a nod I hold my hand out and try reattaching to the privacy bubble. Considering the difference in the behavior of my magic, I try drawing the magic back in, but just like in the last universe there is no noticeable effect. Damn.

"So beautiful," she says, grasping at the bubble just before it winks out of sight. "I look forward to seeing more of it."

I've already made a pretty big fool of myself, so I decide against telling her how much it drained me. She's still smiling, so I also quash my backup idea of saying something fatalistic, knowing what I do of Percy's quests. "You mentioned making Charlie nervous, right? I'd rather keep the number of demigods kicking my ass to a minimum today, if you don't mind."

"Oh, Charlie's just a big teddy bear," she says as we turn to head back.

I laugh. "I suppose I can just tell him that, and explain that teddy bears simply do not beat up people that make him nervous."

She laughs as well. "I amend my previous claim that I will protect you to exclude situations where you deserve to get beat up." I make a pouty face at her and she snorts. "Oh man, what did I sign myself up for?"

"I take it everything's okay?" Beckendorf's deep voice cuts in. I turn to see him scowling, which concerns me for a moment until I remember that's how he always looks.

"Fine, Charlie," Silena replies. "I'm going with him."

"Congratulations!" Austin says, giving her a hug and excitedly telling her all about how he knew I was going to pick her.

In the mean time, Beckendorf claps me on the shoulder and jerks his head toward the pavilion, where the rest of the demigods are talking and pointing in our direction. "You are lucky to have her," he says.

"I know," I agree, proud that my voice didn't squeak from the pain in my shoulder. She might not look the part, but she fought almost as well as Clarisse in the final battle. From what I've seen of Silena so far and what I've read of Clarisse, my quest mate is probably smarter than latter as well.

"Good," he says firmly. "I'm not going to tell you to take care of her, because she can take care of herself. I will only say that she is...important to me."

"She's going to worry about you, too, you know," I say. "It's not like we're leaving you in perfect safety."

The first brings a crooked smile to his face, but it turns grim at the second. "Out of the crucible, into the fire."

"We'll keep each other alive, Mr. Beckendorf," I vow.

He chuckles mirthlessly. "It took me three years to bring her guard down, and you do it in ten minutes, you silver-tongued bastard. Also, Mr. Beckendorf's my grandfather. My friends call me Beck, so you should, too." He claps a big hand on my shoulder. "C'mon, I'll introduce you to the others before Chiron gets here."

Whirlwind introductions go about as well as I expected, which is to say not well at all. Far too many faces and names blur past in far too short a time. It doesn't help that the demigods are milling around and mingling, so they aren't all nicely categorized by their godly parent. And I'm further thrown off by the fact that many of them are as tall as I am. It may seem kind of bizarre how comforting I find it, being able to see over everyone's heads, but I missed it. To make it even worse, there are a big group of undetermined kids who see me as some sort of hero for getting a quest without being claimed. It was almost a relief that the Ares' kids all acted rather surly toward me after Clarisse stormed off, refusing to shake my hand at all.

That's right, her boyfriend...Chris something-or-other...went into the Labyrinth and hasn't fully recovered mentally, and then I just appear in the Labyrinth out of nowhere and rub it in her face. Well, there goes my shot at getting a child of Ares to use the same trick Percy used to get to Circe's island.

We reach a group of chattering, primping Aphrodite girls—they certainly couldn't be mistaken for anyone else—that practically ignore everything else, including Silena. When my self-appointed guide steers me to them, however, the impossibly gorgeous Asian girl introduced as Drew Tanaka smiles at me. My mind trembles at the onslaught. It's like the empousa all over again.

"So, it is our new hero," she says slowly, sexiness oozing out of each word. "Maybe you should reconsider and choose me?" The last word seems drawn out, and the mental tug reaches a crescendo.

"My apologies, Ms. Tanaka," I force out, breaking eye contact with a small bow. It helps. "Your ability is formidable, but I believe I have chosen well."

The other girls hide their tittering behind their hands, while Drew narrows her eyes and flips her hair at me as she turns away. Really, how cliché could you get?

"That was well done," Beckendorf says quietly as we turn away. "Even I found myself agreeing with her."

"Mr. Lerner," Chiron's voice calls over the quieting crowd. The clip-clop of his centaur hooves echo around the pavilion. "I'm pleased to see you getting along well. I understand you've already chosen young Silena to accompany you, and that she has agreed." He nods a shaggy head towards her. "A fine choice indeed. If I may have a word before we begin?"

The other campers start chatting again as Chiron leads me out the pavilion in the direction away from the bonfire, which leads down the hill toward the lake. He remains quiet for a short time, staring out over the reflected high, thin clouds, streaked with pinks, oranges, and purples from the late afternoon Sun. A light breeze ripples the surface of the water the length of the lake, then I do a double-take at the ripples over near a stand of trees. Some strange, humanoid but obviously aquatic creatures appear to be looking and gesturing toward the forest. Naiads? I can't remember if they were even mentioned in the books at all.

"I was being honest back there," Chiron says finally, breaking me out of my ponderings. "Silena is an excellent choice...a fine fighter if she gains more confidence. Normally I would be disappointed to lose another cabin leader, but she would be underused here." He turns and smiles at me. "Have you given any thought to your other companion?"

I frown slightly. "Not much. It was a bit difficult to get to know anybody in my short time."

He nods. "Yes, I can imagine. Annabeth had a thought before she left, and I must say it seemed quite reasonable. You heard her bring up Lou Ellen; if one of your tasks will be convincing the mother with three smiles..."

"...then having her likely daughter along could prove quite useful," I finish.

"Indeed," Chiron says with a smile. "And she even fits as a heroine of deceit; she has a reputation as quite a prankster in Hermes cabin."

I nod, thinking that she actually fits as a heroine of charm, since that's what some magic was called in the last universe. "And perhaps she can help me deal with her half-sister Circe, as well," I muse. Yes, she has quite a few things going for her. "Have you spoken to her?"

"I have not," he replies, then opens his mouth to speak again, but seems to change his mind and turns his pensive gaze back to the lake.

I give him several moments, but he makes no move to speak. "Is something wrong?"

Without turning to me, he says, "It seems incredible to me that one with a gift such as yours would fall into our laps after evading our notice for so long. The gods never fail to favor us with their assistance in times of dire need, but I cannot shake the feeling that you are not part of that."

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I wish I had some answers for myself. I can say I would be quite surprised if any of them claimed me tonight."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Your first day here and you know of that tradition?"

I froze a moment before I remembered my first night in the Labyrinth. "Annabeth was distraught over Luke's behavior," I explain, "and Percy wasn't exactly sympathetic. When he and Rachel slept, I asked her to tell me about him back before all this. I got much more than I bargained for."

Chiron's face drew into a frown. "Luke...yes, a most unfortunate situation, especially for her. Well, normally we'd give you a tour, but seeing as you'll be heading out this evening, I don't suppose you'll mind if we postpone it?"

I force out a small smile. "I believe that will be fine."

He bends down to grip my shoulder and give me a firm nod. As a centaur, he's half again as tall as I am, but it still feels weird to me that he has to bend down to do it. "Very well, let's go and begin the feast, and see what Lou Ellen has to say."

* * *

"Really? Are y'all serious?" The expression on her oval-shaped face mirrors that of many of the other demigods when I ask her. She's maybe twenty years old, and unlike the typical, statuesque demigoddesses around me, the top of her head is only up to my chest. Her already protuberant, coffee-brown eyes, full of mischief from the food pranks she'd been playing on the other Hermes and undetermined kids only moments earlier, bulged even wider with surprise.

"Quite serious," I say, trying to really ignore the mass of demigods that are only pretending to ignore our conversation.

She shakes her head, her short, light brown pony tail wagging behind her head. "They...you...but...why not someone from Cabin Five or somethin'? Shouldn't you take someone that can fight?" Her Southern accent is unexpected after spending so long hearing British accents, and then the neutral Midwest/California accents since then.

I shake my head right back. I'm fairly certain that's Ares' Cabin, but I don't want to get it wrong with all of these people listening, or, in some cases, pretending not to listen. Plus, saying that they need every fighter they can get here probably wouldn't be very comforting to either Lou Ellen or the rest of them. "Both Chiron and Annabeth have recommended you, and from what I have heard, I believe you are the best one for the job."

She gapes at Chiron, who nods and smiles at her. Then she glances around, and others either mostly look away or shoot half glares at her, likely depending on how much they like the girl. "Well, if y'all're sure..."

In response I reach out my hand, and she grasps it to sudden, scattered applause at which I flush with embarrassment. I guess they've given up on the pretense of not paying attention.

"Well done, William, and congratulations to both Silena and Lou Ellen," Chiron boomed, to rather more polite and full applause. "Now, let us honor the gods and honor our heroes as they set out to fulfill their destiny." The centaur canters out to the bonfire and the first camper tosses a healthy slab of steak onto it, an action which gnaws my frugal heart, but I squash it quickly. It wouldn't do to be caught showing how wasteful I think this is if Ares is watching. That dude is crazy, as I recall.

The procession continues with my two new companions bringing up the rear, and, after some deliberation, I decide to go all out and toss a full steak on the fire as well. I had already told Chiron I don't expect any of the gods to claim me, but it's difficult not to get swept up in the atmosphere of anticipation. By the time I reach the fire, my heart is pretty much trying to burst out of my chest.

I pause, not unaware of the others holding their breath as well, waiting to see if anything appears above me, as it might if a god or goddess claimed me. No such luck. Lou Ellen, who had slipped behind me in a bid to go last, goes next, but she also fails to be claimed.

"We still love ya, Lou!" The anonymous shout from the large group of Hermes kids makes her cheeks blush furiously before she ducks her head and scampers over behind me and Silena.

Chiron approaches with a smile directed toward Hermes' Cabin and a small, thick, burlap sack. "Gifts for your journey," he announces, then pulls out a folded orange tee shirt and hands it to me. "One XL Tall Camp Half-blood tee," he says. My eyebrows jump in surprise, and he smiles. "A good portion of our campers grow into this size, so we keep a healthy supply."

"Lou Ellen, your brothers and sisters from Hermes' Cabin graciously donate two Celestial Bronze daggers," he says, handing one to Lou Ellen and one to me. They both appear to be in plain leather sheathes with belt clips, but not wanting to look like a fool by putting it in the wrong place, I just place mine on top of my new shirt. I glance questioningly over to Silena, wondering why she didn't receive one.

She apparently mistakes my curiosity as a call for help, because she smiles, picks up the dagger, lifts up the front of my shirt on the left side and easily clips it to my belt. "Tilt inward," she says quietly, "easy to draw in a forward or reverse grip, difficult for someone else to steal."

It's easy to resist the urge to throttle whoever wolf-whistled—probably Austin, that bastard—because shortly thereafter I'm targeted with a dark look Beckendorf shoots in my direction. "Umm, thanks, Silena," I say, leaning away from her in hopes that the giant, iron teddy bear realizes it's not my fault.

She winks, telling me she knows exactly what she's doing before she steps away, bringing Chiron's voice back into focus.

"—wish them speed and success on this critical quest," he says, raising his glass. "Go, my friends, my brothers and sisters—"

Just then a bright flash of light in front of the fire cuts him off. I blink away tears from the intensity of it, and eventually manage a glimpse of a shimmering, shifting female form. "Mother," Silena gasps, identifying the newcomer.

"Hello, my daughter," Aphrodite says, her absurdly sultry voice sending shivers down my spine. I catch a whiff of a light, floral scent that does the same, and involuntarily steal a glance in her direction. Her eyes meet mine and her shifting hair becomes long and dark with not a strand out of place, falling in ringlets over a lean, voluptuous body even taller than my own, covered in a shimmering purple dress that hugs her figure. At the familiar tug on my mind I tear my eyes away from her piercing, unnaturally purple irises before I turn into a blubbering fool. The goddess already exudes every kind of perfection; adding such a pure and powerful version of the mental allure her daughter and the empousa used is just madness. I bite down on my tongue and focus on the pain to keep my head.

"It is an honor, milady," Chiron says formally, bowing his head. Several demigods in my line of sight do the same; the males don't seem as affected as I am, though several of them bow quite low.

Suddenly the goddess simply appears in my line of sight as if she'd been there the whole time, deep purple eyes boring into mine. "Hello," she says, then steps up, tantalizingly close, and whispers in my ear. "Who are you?"

My knees quiver at her proximity, but somehow I manage to keep my feet. "William," I breathe out, trying but failing to remember some kind of honorific. "...uh, Lerner."

She walks around me in a tight circle, and I practically feel her eyes searing into me. "You are the leader of this quest," she says.

I can't tell if that was a question, so I fumble over what to say. My eyes quickly flit around looking for support, but there is so little movement. The only sound in the vicinity is the snapping and popping of the wood in the bonfire, so I can almost hear Silena nodding her head. "At your service, milady," I say, finally remembering Chiron's form of address. Hopefully it's okay for me to use it. My body is practically frozen in place, I'm so terrified.

"No, you are not," she says as she steps back into view, "and that is what concerns us."

Us...as in the Olympians? Oh damn. "I'm sorry, I—I don't know what you mean..."

She cocks her head back slightly. "You do not," she says, surprise plain in her voice. Then the corners of her lips quirk upward into a slight smile. "Interesting... Very well, William." Her voice caresses the name lustfully, sending another shudder into my very core. She reaches a single finger up toward my chin, and I jerk my head upward and away instinctively, hoping she doesn't notice just how stifling my jeans have become. I have never felt a desire to please so strongly, and I feel like if she touches me I would become her thrall, as I'm sure many mortals have become before me. I feel a spike of fear that I've offended her, but her smile only widens. I get the impression she knows what she could do to me now.

She languidly stretches her elbows upward, pushing her hair back with both hands. My eyes travel downward of their own accord, where only divine intervention keeps her ample bust from completely spilling out the top of her gown. A silvery bronze locket emerges from between her breasts, held up by the thinnest of chains, which I hadn't even noticed before. I'm fairly certain it wasn't there in the first place, but my brain isn't working well enough to try and picture what the goddess looked like moments earlier. "Silena," she says sibilantly, not taking her eyes off me. Then she slips behind me and the heart-shaped locket falls in front of my eyes. I stay perfectly still, terrified that Aphrodite will touch me, as its weight falls onto the back of my neck, feeling both heavy and light, hot and cold. "This man holds my heart," she says, "see that he does not mistreat it, and only breaks it as a last resort."

"Yes, mother," Silena replies, her voice holding a tinge of anger.

Aphrodite must have noticed it, too, because a light, lilting laugh follows immediately after. "Oh, you have chosen well, my daughter." Before I can figure out what all these cryptic statements mean, she finally turns to Lou Ellen. The goddess shifts again; her hair becomes a beautiful blonde but shortens to just below her shoulder. "And you, my dear..." With a wave of Aphrodite's hand, Lou Ellen's hair snaps out of its pony tail and shifts to mirror Aphrodite's current style, even lightening a bit as if sun-bleached. The daughter of Hecate's eyes and nose become less obvious, and her mouth moreso. I realize belatedly that it's magically applied make-up, and thanks to the goddess it's subtly and quite attractively done. "We can't make it too easy on my daughter, now can we?"

"Mother..." Silena says with a half growl.

Aphrodite winks at Lou Ellen, then turns to Silena, quickly becoming a bustier and more muscular version of her. "Now, now, my dear, jealousy is so unbecoming, and I'm sure our new friend doesn't find it very attractive, now do you?"

I grunt intelligently. Thankfully Silena reserves her glare for her mother, who merely smiles back and continues to approach. Silena remains rigid as her mother reaches into her hair, pulls out a dolphin-shaped pin, and uses it to pin some of her hair back.

"There you are, dear," she says, "when you can't see the way ahead, sometimes a nice hairpin is all you need."

"Thank you, mother," Silena replies stiffly, somehow managing to sound like she means it despite her early annoyance.

"Now, I must be off, but I highly recommend Key West Harbor this time of year," Aphrodite says as if she doesn't hear her daughter. "I hear the ride is breathtaking, and you'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." With a final wink in my direction, the goddess glides sensuously toward the fire, and I barely regain my senses in time to turn my head before she disappears in another flash of light.

* * *

A/N:

Since the demigods didn't have to escape Daedalus' workshop, they took the Labyrinth straight back to Camp Half-blood. In canon, they go to New York to drop off Rachel.

In some stories, Silenus is a satyr older than the gods, and he did indeed tutor Dionysus.

Apollo children can heal people by singing a song to their father. I figure to heal I need sleep, so that's what happens when Kayla does it. Kayla and Austin both appear in The Last Olympian at the Battle of Manhattan, but that is the only time they are mentioned in canon.

I moved up the timeline for Beck/Silena, who don't really get together until between books four and five, because I'd already come up with a good chunk of the plot before I realized that. Frankly I think it makes more sense this way; why would she agree to spy to protect Beckendorf if they'd only been together for a short time?

Almost every time I try to type 'Beckendorf,' it comes out 'Beckendork.'

I know pretty much nothing about fighting, let alone the names of knife grips.

The Aphrodite scene...yeah.


End file.
